


The Open Gate

by HeapBigPhotographer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:53:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeapBigPhotographer/pseuds/HeapBigPhotographer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reeling from defeats along the coast, American troops and freedom fighters prepare to strike fear into the hearts of the Alternian invaders using information about the enemy's culture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Open Gate

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first post in an MSPFA that I tried to start. I was only going to have the Trolls show up in cameos, but I had a weird flashback interaction scheme that didn't work out. The work is still the inspiration for Homefall, and you could see this as a gaiden of sorts, something happening during the invasion.
> 
> I'm not really going to bother with the rest of the posts, since this is the only one that I liked. You're welcome to poke around the MSPAF cradle and find them though.

“There.”

Lou followed the finger of the Lieutenant. A craft store. Perfect. He nodded and waved the squad to him. Quietly, the three men made their way to him. Killington crouched as low as his snowshoes would allow him to and sidled up. Martin and Martinez both pulled themselves through the snow as well as they could, Martinez managing far better than his overburdened compatriot.

They crouched in the brightest spot they could find without being skylined or too obviously in the open. This meant at the edge of the road with their backs against the frozen flow of ice that cascaded down the rock face.

“See that boys?” Lou whispered to the three men gathered around him.

“Yeah Sarge, It’s ‘bout time too,” Martin returned in a whisper that still carried his drawl.

Lou winced. Two fine men and one jackass had held this exact position before him.

Yes, the Lieutenant had made him a sergeant, but things were rather unofficial. He’d much rather return to being a P(o)IC, Private (of) Indeterminate Class, the rank the handful of real soldiers had mockingly given the bunch of conscripts who’d they’d been saddled with. Hell, he hardly even felt like a solider with his gear.

He looked down and took stock. The M-16 helped him fit the image of a solider, even with the scope he’d been given by a farmer a week ago. That looked deadly. The empty soda bottle taped over the barrel’s mouth, much less so. His coat was a fine ski coat appropriated from an abandoned shop, with zigzags of white tape giving it a rudimentary camouflage pattern. He had a real Kevlar helmet on his pack, but he was wearing another piece of loot from the shop instead, a matte white racing helmet that, while less protective, had the advantage of not being designed for a jungle.

He looked enviously over at the Lieutenant who was talking deployment with the surviving Designated Marksman and the incorrigible twins who’d decided they’d earn their Vernon High School Rifle Team Lettermen’s in the combat zone. Mostly because the genuine gear the Lieutenant had managed to be both warm and suited to the task at hand. Not a compromise between not freezing and not getting sliced, diced, or vaporized.

However, Lou had to admit, part of it was because the female half of the Ellen twins was almost always nice to look at. When he caught Killington looking the same direction in much the same way, he snapped back to the situation at hand.

“Right, usual situation, Killer, you’re in front, Rod, back him up, than me. Jeff, I’m assuming all this white stuff won’t cause you to try warming up with a rocket motor so you can take the back.”

The squad snorted at Martin’s expense. The Florida native had complained of freezing to death in New Haven, and there had hardly been any snow on the ground. As the keeper of the platoon’s AT-4 and the precious dozen rockets, he’d been pestering the Lieutenant to let him use it ever since the snow got thicker on the ground around Vermont. When the officer had demanded to know why he was so insistent, he sheepishly admitted that he thought it would melt enough snow to see the grass again.

They had worried that Rodrigo, from Boston, would need the medic from the next nearest unit when he heard that. Martinez laughed for the better part of an hour before calming down enough to clue the others into the irony that Martin complained of the cold before Martinez.

Martin was a good sport about it though. Things had been rough since then, and while he probably felt mortal embarrassment, he knew any source of levity was a good thing.

“Right fellas, wait for the Lieutenant’s sign, and than it’s the same old same old.”

Fifteen minutes later the irregular platoon converged on the store, one squad on snow shoes descending from the hill behind, another crossing the road after making it’s way down the opposite side of the narrow valley, with the rest emerging from the field south of the store. The two snowshoed units made their way into the house to see if the family was okay or if they’d been messed with in some way. The rest made their way into the store proper.

While most of it was given over to the handicrafts popular with tourists, it did indeed have a small art supply section. A sweep of the store turned up nothing so Lou gathered his squad by the art supplies.

The other soldiers returned from the house and said they were free to take whatever they needed so long as they left the store in good order. The men grinned like fiends. They’d been looking forward to this. This was their chance to start messing with the enemy for once. They would get to give them a reason to be afraid. Sure it was some I Am Legend bullshit, but it would be worth it.

Lou took off his helmet and plugged in a hot glue gun after tearing it from its packaging. Martin and Martinez went through the paint selection, matching hues to photos on a battered digital camera and stains on various things. Killington rummaged through his pack and pulled out a drawstring sack.

Most of its contents were salvaged by the squad, but there were a couple from militias who’d heard about what was essentially a call for scalps. The other squads had their own collections and by now had started heaping out the contents of their bags and sorting through them.

Lou removed his helmet and started a nice big glob of glue on its side when Killington slid him a likely specimen. Lou grinned when he recognized it.

“Ah, that was a good one alright. Showed her what rape’ll get ya,” The grin turned savage. “Maybe I can show a friend or two of hers some of the proper respect. Thanks Terence.”

He took the horn and held it up to the light, the progression from yellow at the base to orange at the fish-hook like tip was subtle but noticeable. Its partner had been a rather pedestrian curve, but this was distinctive. He jammed it into the now large blob of hot glue and held it as the air solidified the mass. Killington was already sifting through the horn pile for an adornment for his own helmet.

Martinez tossed Lou a bag of Skittles that he couldn’t catch with his hands occupied. It smacked him square in the face and landed in his lap.

“I don’t know Sarge, you’ve got the horns, but with reflexes like that you sure you’re ready to taste the rainbow?”

The shop exploded into gales of laughter. Sure the joke had been made since the moment they got their orders, but Rodrigo’s timing and prop usage had been avant garde as far as the platoon’s humor was concerned. Despite being the butt of the joke, Lou’s grin was equal parts warm and lupine.

But the grin faded from Lou’s face.

For some reason the hilarity of the situation seemed more fevered than genuinely funny. He had to fight hard the urge to take out the photograph again. To remember what he’d been doing in another life time that was only a few months ago. To remember that day they made planet fall. When the war began…


End file.
